


certain obscure things

by jinkandtherebels



Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:34:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27919036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jinkandtherebels/pseuds/jinkandtherebels
Summary: Death Incarnate is in his bed. This is new.
Relationships: Thanatos/Zagreus (Hades Video Game)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 406





	certain obscure things

**Author's Note:**

> Me: has a 15k-word Naruto fic I could be editing  
> Also me: has a 17k-word The Untamed fic I could be editing  
> Also also me: ...I am going to write a Hades fic that is so self-indulgent--
> 
> So, this has spoilers for some of Achilles' Thanatos-related dialogue and the end of Than's Codex entry, and it's intended to come pretty soon after the last scene in the ThanZag romance route but it doesn't spoil the scene itself. I think that's everything, and I hope y'all enjoy!

Death Incarnate is in his bed. This is new.

There have been a lot of new things coming at him in the last—hour? Hours? Who knows—and Zagreus is only now getting a moment to breathe and take stock of it all. He has time for it, given that Thanatos is apparently still catching his (figurative) breath. He keeps glancing over, unable to stop himself, checking to make sure Than hasn’t poofed out of existence like he’s prone to doing—but no, he’s still there, his eyes slowly beginning to lose their dazed quality. (Too bad, he thinks wistfully.)

Zagreus is surprised that he hasn’t moved yet. Hasn’t mentioned something about work or souls or the backlog that is no doubt piling up every second he’s here with Zagreus and not on the surface. He isn’t used to seeing Thanatos so…still.

But then, he supposes the same could be said for him: Zagreus honestly can’t remember the last time he was in the House for more than a few minutes before jumping out of the window to start another escape attempt. Even his own bed has been mostly ornamental since he and Meg went their separate ways, so this lying about feels strange. Not even in a bad way; it’s just another new thing. Like the itch underneath his skin, omnipresent and always urging him to move, to go faster, to do _something_ , has gone quiet for once.

He thinks he could get used to this.

First thing when he does eventually get up, he decides, he’s going straight to Achilles and offering to buy the shade drinks for the rest of his natural…er, existence.

“What does Achilles have to do with anything?” Thanatos asks.

Zagreus blinks. Huh. Maybe he ought to work on breaking the habit of talking to himself out loud—he isn’t used to having an audience for it.

“Nothing much,” he says. “He gave me some good advice, that’s all.”

“Achilles is a wise man,” Thanatos replies, but there’s a slight edge to his voice that belies the words themselves. On a mere mortal, or even a different god, it might sound like jealousy.

But not from Death himself, Zagreus thinks. Surely not.

He rolls over and squints, trying to read Thanatos’s expression, but Than isn’t looking at him. Zagreus would normally interpret this particular quality of his silence as annoyance, but Thanatos never seems to have trouble looking at him when he’s annoyed, the better for Zagreus to read _You’re An Idiot, Zag_ written across his expression in massive script. The fact that Than doesn’t want to make eye contact now raises the intriguing (if remote) possibility that he’s…what, uncomfortable? Embarrassed, even?

He’s gripped by the sudden urge to press at the edges of this, to see if it’s possible to get Than to flush golden when they aren’t otherwise exerting themselves.

“He helped me out with you,” he continues, cheerfully ignoring the fact that Thanatos did not ask. “Insinuated that you might have some feelings for me beyond what I understood to be ‘irritation’ and ‘long-suffering tolerance.’”

“Did he,” Thanatos says, in a tone that suggests he couldn't care less. Zagreus, having been on the receiving end of such a tone more times than he can count, is unfazed and continues on without thinking.

“He did. Actually, I think the word used was ‘adored’.”

Thanatos stiffens beside him.

Zagreus wonders, briefly but with feeling, why he couldn’t have been made the god of something actually _useful_ —like stuffing one’s thoughtless words back into one’s mouth before they reached anyone else’s ears.

(Their mortification would be more mutual if Thanatos only knew: Zagreus remembers that particular descriptor so well because he’d reread Than’s Codex entry a truly ridiculous number of times, turning to it whenever he began to wonder if he was projecting and Thanatos really didn’t have those kinds of feelings for him after all. If someone else had noticed, he’d figured, especially someone as observant as Achilles, it lent credence to the idea that everything wasn’t just in his head.)

Zagreus is not often one for regretting his terrible decisions, but if Thanatos does decide to poof out on him now then that might just do it. He’s about to cave and change the subject when Than looks at him sideways, golden eyes gleaming underneath pale lashes, and fuck if that sight doesn’t steal the unnecessary breath from his lungs.

Some of his—well, awe, there’s no other word for it—must show in his expression, because Thanatos relaxes a little.

“Like I said,” he murmurs. “A wise man.”

There’s not one trace of sarcasm in it. He’s being utterly serious, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and that just—oh, _hell_.

Zagreus groans and flings an arm over his own face, like that’ll do anything to hide the flush spilling over his skin like wine. Stupid red blood, stupid godly inheritance; his body is a miserable traitor in times like these, and he’d know it by the tiny self-satisfied smirk on Than’s face even if he couldn't feel it for himself.

“That’s hardly fair,” he protests. “I’m not used to you being all— _earnest_ about things.”

Thanatos rolls his eyes.

“Oh, so it’s fine when you embarrass _me_ at every turn,” he says. “What with the nectar, and the gaudiest bottles of ambrosia I’ve ever seen in my life, and the _flirting_ when I am _on duty_ —”

“In fairness,” Zagreus interrupts, peering around his own elbow, “I don’t actually remember the last time you were _off_ duty.”

The look Than gives him could freeze water. “That really isn’t the point.”

“Yes, but I make a fool of myself plenty without your help,” Zagreus says (very reasonably, he thinks). “Like when I had to climb out of the blood soup twenty-odd times before I could fight my way past Meg, remember? And I’m still not convinced she was going all out, no matter what she says.”

“She didn’t actually enjoy watching you suffer,” Than says quietly. “None of us did.”

He lapses into another of his silences then, leaving Zagreus to chew on that for a minute.

Meg and Thanatos both—in hindsight, Zagreus had been so overwhelmed by their anger that he hadn’t really stopped to consider what might be fueling it. Than especially; he’d never needed to get swept up in Zagreus’s mess, but he had anyway, and helped him at every turn. Even admitted as much to Hades himself when asked, and Zagreus might take great pleasure in thwarting his father’s will at every opportunity, but he’s aware he’s in the minority in that regard.

He’s still not entirely clear where the boundaries between the Lord of the Underworld and Death Incarnate lay, but he could still imagine the situation having gotten ugly if Thanatos wasn’t so damned good at his job—since if there’s one thing his father values even more than loyalty, it’s competence. Had Thanatos been betting on that when he stuck his neck out for Zagreus?

Or had he just not cared?

( _I know you didn’t ask for me to get involved, but what did you expect?_ He’d said that, too, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.)

The more he thinks about it, the more Zagreus begins to feel slightly guilty for teasing. This is a new thing for both of them, after all, not just him—and while he’s always going to enjoy pushing Than’s buttons a little, he also wants to play fair.

He clears his throat.

“You know, Achilles gave me some other advice,” he says, trying for casual and probably failing. “Just before—well, all of this.” He gestures vaguely to his room, the bed, their current state of undress. “Said that I should probably stop with all the lavish gifts if I was only leading you on.”

He feels the weight of Thanatos’s full attention on him again and turns. Sure enough, Than is watching him, his expression wary.

“I sincerely hope you didn’t need _aristos achaion_ himself to tell you what you were doing,” he says flatly. Zagreus smacks him in the chest.

“Would it pain you to give me the smallest modicum of credit?” he retorts. Thanatos doesn’t look convinced.

“And were those the extent of his brilliant insights?” he asks.

The words are dry, but his eyes are fond—unbearably fond, blatantly so now that he knows to look for it, and Zagreus takes a second to marvel that there was ever a time when he thought Than inexpressive. He swallows hard.

“There was one other thing. He said that if I—” The word feels too big for his mouth, suddenly, but Zagreus hasn’t done a thing halfway in his immortal life and he isn’t about to start now. “If I loved you, then I ought to follow that.”

Than’s expression abruptly goes blank and Zagreus scrambles to clarify, “I’m not leading you on, Than. Obviously. Given—” He gestures again to their general surroundings. He suspects it looks more like flailing. “So, I mean—”

“I know what you mean,” Thanatos interrupts.

Zagreus’s heart is still in his throat, so it takes him a moment to recognize the ichor-golden flush spreading over Than’s ears. There’s one small victory, he thinks, dazed, as Than tries to say something else.

“Zag, I…” He trails off after a moment. “Why is this so damned _hard_?”

He looks so irritated with himself that Zagreus can’t help laughing a little, the tension leeching right out of him.

“You don’t have to tell me that,” he says, grinning. “I’ll be the first to agree that fighting armored greatshields is easier than having certain conversations.”

“Fighting greatshields isn’t actually as stressful as you make it look,” Thanatos says, like he just can’t help himself, and now it’s Zagreus’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Oh, fine, play the ‘I can reap souls instantly’ card,” he says.

There’s no heat in it, though. The sight of Than’s face, flushed and frustrated, his jaw working furiously around words he can’t quite bring himself to say—it all taps into a well of affection in him that Zagreus is beginning to suspect is bottomless. The fact of this should be terrifying.

It isn’t.

(It makes Zagreus wonder, treasonously, if this is the kind of love that sunk his father’s heart like a stone when Persephone left.)

“How’s this,” he suggests, when he’s confident he can speak again and sound normal—not like he was just having unforgivably sappy thoughts about Death himself. “You don’t need to say anything right now, and we’ll call the embarrassment even. And then at some future point, if you’re feeling generous, _you_ can say something horribly heartfelt and mortify yourself in turn.” He considers. “Just, maybe not in Elysium. I might get distracted and die in some new idiotic way and then we’d be back to square one. Sound fair?”

Thanatos lets out a tiny snort of laughter. Such a stupidly small thing to send tremors running through his heart, yet here Zagreus is.

“Fair enough,” Than says. He’s wearing one of his rare smiles. It occurs to Zagreus that maybe—just maybe—he’s allowed to get used to this too.

The number of emotional confessions he’s managed not to fuck up today have left him pretty much exhausted, so he decides there’s nothing else for it but to cuddle up to Death. Thanatos, predictably, complains the entire time but also does exactly nothing to stop him.

“Your feet are freezing,” Zagreus mutters as he makes himself comfortable, earning another impressive eye roll.

“Your feet are literally _on fire_.”

“So we’re both suffering, then. Good to know.”

“We’re both ‘suffering’ because you want to sprawl out everywhere.” He likes to think there’s the hint of another smile buried in Than’s long-suffering tone. “Because you’re shameless.”

Zagreus smirks. “What’s the point of being shameless if you don’t use it to get what you want?”

“Shameless enough to have _no door_ on your private chambers,” Than adds, pointedly.

“Ah,” Zagreus says after a moment. “You know, I’ve never thought about it, but that’s a fair point.” He yawns against Than’s collarbone, too drowsy now to feel any real sense of urgency. “I’ll speak to the House Contractor about that, shall I?”

His eyes are closing before he’s finished getting the question out. He doesn’t hear whatever Thanatos says in response. He does, however, feel it when long fingers run themselves carefully through his hair, when dry lips press against his forehead.

Somehow he doesn’t doubt that Than will still be there when he wakes up.

 _Yes_ , Zagreus thinks as he falls asleep, _I could definitely get used to this_.


End file.
